


Cheer You Up

by GalacticDavey



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: (kind of), College AU, F/M, Fluff, and i thought it would be fun for pidge to be older, i saw "college au" in the requests and i kinda. got carried away., i shouldn't ramble in the tags like this but hhhh, pidge is in college, shidge valentines exchange 2018, shiro is a senior in high school, this is really soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-02
Updated: 2018-02-02
Packaged: 2019-03-12 13:29:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13548324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalacticDavey/pseuds/GalacticDavey
Summary: Pidge comes home from college to surprise her boyfriend for homecoming.





	Cheer You Up

**Author's Note:**

> This is my Shidge Valentine's Exchange piece for Dave!!! I had a blast writing this, and I really hope you like it! <3

What Pidge knew about football could be summed up in a) jack and b) shit. She had a grasp on the basics of it, of course—get egg to one side of the field—but then people started throwing around all the rules, and the jargon, and she was  _ lost _ .

Shiro always teased her about it, saying that’s how everyone else felt when she and Hunk would get into a conversation about science, so that made them even.

She did her best, of course. She cheered when everyone else in the stands did, at least, and was secretly glad that she didn’t actually need to follow the game. She went to every game (up until she graduated and left for college, anyway), but hardly paid any attention to whatever shenanigans were going on on-field.

“It’s impossible,” she’d said, “when my boyfriend’s butt looks so good in his cheer pants,” to which Shiro had immediately hidden his red face behind his hands.

Besides, watching Shiro throw people in the air and catch them like they were nothing was a lot more entertaining, in Pidge’s humble opinion, than watching dudes in huge pads get knocked over.

Tonight is no different. Pidge sits in the stands, swimming in her boyfriend’s letterman jacket and sipping on a cup of hot chocolate from the concessions stand, and despite the tension hanging heavy over the bleachers, she couldn’t care less about the homecoming game. Her eyes are glued on the cheer squad, unable to stop grinning because evidently Lotor insisted on everyone putting on face glitter, Allura is helping Keith correct his high kicks more like a drill sergeant than a cheer captain, Keith is doing high kicks with an expression that says he would rather be kicking someone in the head, and Zethrid and Shiro are making a show of bench-pressing their teammates.

Yeah, watching the cheer squad is infinitely more entertaining than the football game—especially when they started doing their routines. Cartwheels, flips, aerial shenanigans; it was like those cheer movies her brother used to make her sit through (he always cried at the end of Bring It On: All Or Nothing and she would hold that over his head forever).

Granted, she’s developed a lot more respect for the sport over the years, not entirely unrelated to her friends’ participation in it, as well as one Takashi Shirogane. Most things aren’t at all like movies, and cheerleading is definitely more than vapid airheadedness—it took a lot of hard work.

Plus, she can’t  _ imagine _ bending the way they did, so she can’t help but admire them. She had borne witness to Lance’s borderline contortionism in casual settings, too, because he was a damn show-off, but it still never failed to amaze her (and give her sympathy aches because that mu _ s _ t hurt, right? How does that shit not hurt, Lance, your  _ feet are by your head _ ).

The whole squad is incredible; but Pidge would be lying if she tried to say she isn’t biased. Shiro is stunning, as always—she can’t help but grin at the way her heart picks up just watching him, absolutely gleaming under the field lights, and not even bothered by the fact that he’s shiny because he’s  _ sweaty _ . She can’t focus on something as petty as a little sweat when she’s so focused on how he’ll react when he sees she made it home for the weekend.

It had taken a few long,  _ long _ nights of getting ahead on homework and studying, but she did it.

Shiro had been disappointed when she had admitted, genuinely dismayed, that she was swamped with homework (her programming professor was a sadist) and couldn’t make it to homecoming. He hadn’t  _ said _ as much, of course, because he was understanding to a fault, but his eyes had gone kicked-puppy soft in the Skype window, even as he smiled and shrugged.

“That’s okay,” he’d said. “You’re working hard. I’m really proud of you. Promise me you’ll make it to prom though, right?”

She’d promised, of course (and meant it, because there was no way she was going to miss Shiro’s senior prom).

And she knew he meant what he’d said, disappointed or not, but instead of taking his acceptance at face value, the infamous Holt stubbornness came out full force, and she got to work.

She’s exhausted, but that makes the free weekend feel even better, and she knows it’ll be worth it to see Shiro’s face. She’s practically vibrating in anticipation, watching the timer on the scoreboard run down closer and closer to the end of the game, leg bouncing anxiously every time it stops for time-outs.

Waiting makes half-time hell, but at least the marching band plays a cool Daft Punk medley. She wonders if Coran picked that out, or if someone suggested it.

When that ending buzzer finally sounds—with the Garrison Lions in the lead by ten points—Pidge wastes no time abandoning her spot on the bleachers. She doesn’t even bother waiting to file down the steps; she hops down seat by seat, grinning like a little kid on Christmas.

“Shiro!” She shouts, jumping onto the chain link fence with a clamor. “Miss me?” The look on his face says it all, and the shock only makes her smile wider. He drops everything and runs through the gate, picking her up like she weighs nothing at all. She half expects him to spin her around, but too many people are crowding around them leaving the stands, so he settles for just holding her.

“Katie, I thought you said you couldn’t make it.” He’s smiling ear to ear, and Pidge thinks he might not ever put her down at this rate (not that she would mind).

“Well, it was sort of a last-minute development,” she explains with a shrug. “I pulled some strings, got” way,  _ way _ “ahead on my homework, and…” She shrugs. “I didn’t want to miss homecoming, you know?” Shiro just laughs, and presses kisses to her cheeks, then her lips. “Matt’s even letting me borrow one of his suits.”

“Bet you’ll wear it better.”

“You’re  _ biased _ .”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

She snorts, and playfully shoves his shoulder—not that it’s very effective, given that Shiro is a brick wall and also he’s still  _ holding _ her.

“Gonna put me down anytime soon, big guy?”

“I wouldn’t count on it if I were you.”

Lance drapes himself over the fence next to them. “Excuse me for interrupting, but are you lovebirds attending the Waffle House dinner?”

“You guys still do that?”

“Every win, sweet pidgeon,” Lance answers. “And given that you’re basically an honorary cheer squad member, I  _ suppose _ you can tag along.” His smile betrays his sarcasm, and he stretches his arm to ruffle her hair. “Missed you, nerd.”

“I missed you, too,” she replies, laughing, as Shiro finally sets her back on the ground. Their hands find one another effortlessly, fingers twining together, and she doesn’t have to look to know that Shiro is beaming, radiating warmth like the sun. She leans into his side, unable to hide her own smile as she does so.

“Let me buy you a waffle?” He offers, and his lips find her forehead. They’re chapped from the cold November air, and she makes a mental note to give him some chapstick on their way to diner hell.

“You don’t have to do that…” It’s a weak protest. Pidge is not one to turn down free food.

“C’mon, I want to. And you’ve more than earned it with how hard I’m sure you worked to make it tonight.”

She frowns, pretending to think. “Can I get it with chocolate chips?”

“Sure thing,” he agrees with a chuckle.

“Then you’ve got yourself a deal.” He removes his hand from hers just to drape his arm over her shoulder, tucking her warm and snug into his side as they wait for the other squad members, and she closes her eyes, relaxing into the embrace.

She is really, really glad to be home.


End file.
